


To Move the Sun and Other Stars

by QueenSabriel



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Deckerstar - Freeform, F/M, First Time, One Shot, Wing Grooming, lots of feelings, lucifer kinda deals with some feelings, set sometime during s4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-07-23 18:41:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20013019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenSabriel/pseuds/QueenSabriel
Summary: Are we having a moment?





	To Move the Sun and Other Stars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [batard_loaf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/batard_loaf/gifts).



It was the light that swept him away, that particular molten gold of late afternoons in summer, just now slanting heavily into the penthouse, pooling across the furniture, casting long, long shadows of all his worldly possessions. It was a deep light, and it was a lonely light, at least to him. The breeze coming in through the open balcony door was lonely too, because it brought on it not the overwhelming-city-smells of Los Angeles at the end of a hot day but rather something more open and wild, the sea maybe, or the desert.

Far in the background the detective was talking, but Lucifer hadn’t been able to hold onto the thread of her words.

Sometimes the memories of Heaven caressed him like a gentle kiss.

Sometimes the memories of Heaven engulfed him like a firestorm.

The images burning into his mind now were the bronze grasslands that stretched west from the Silver City to the shores of the Nebula Sea. This image always was accompanied by the melody of his siblings’ voices, the beat of cool air beneath his wings, freeing, bearing him higher as he and Michael raced ahead of the others.

The cool wind. Silk against his feathers, and the hot sun, warming his bare skin. But paradise had really been Michael’s fingers playfully tugging a lock of his hair, Gabriel plucking bits of that golden grass from his wings after he had thrown himself down into it, had been the way Amenadiel’s face lit when he laughed, Raphael’s reassuring presence, Uriel’s wide-eyed wonder, Azrael’s embrace.

_Hurting_.

Shut up. Shut up.

“ _Shut up_.”

Suddenly the detective’s voice stopped, and the absence of it made Lucifer turn around. Chloe was gaping at him, scowling, and when he turned she folded her arms over her chest, cocking her head expectantly.

“Oh.” Lucifer flashed her a grin. That usually made up for things. “Sorry. I wasn’t talking to you.”

Chloe didn’t look appeased, impressed, or fully convinced. “Okay, but obviously you weren’t listening to me either.”

“Mmmmmno,” he admitted, lifting his all-but-forgotten glass to his lips finally. “I’m afraid my mind was a thousand worlds away. You were talking about the case?”

“No, I was talking about climbing K2.”

“Funny.” Lucifer took another sip and walked towards the windows, his gaze drawn once again to the gilded cityscape sprawling out below.

A moment later Chloe stepped up beside him. “Hey,” she said. “You okay? You’ve been out of it today. _Weirdly_ out of it, even for you.” When he didn’t reply immediately, she reached over and put her hand on his back, between his shoulder blades. “Lucifer?”

_Hurting._

He inhaled sharply and stepped back.

“Oh, sorry, I...” Chloe’s annoyance had turned to worry, with just a dash of confusion, but she gave a small nod like he had just confirmed some hypothesis she’d tossed around. “Okay, something’s clearly up with you.”

“It’s just...” Lucifer began, but he trailed off, vaguely gesturing at the window, at the golden sky beyond, at the city.

Chloe looked out. She looked for a long time. He wondered what she saw when she looked at it. Then she looked back at him.

He wondered what she saw when she looked at him now, too. Things were mending now, yes, but sometimes he thought he still saw her flinch.

 _Hurting_.

“Sorry,” Chloe said, quietly. “I don’t understand.”

Lucifer took a long breath, and then an even longer drink of his whiskey, draining the glass then leaning over to set it on the glass end table with an audible clink. He laughed, at himself, at how low he had come. “It’s a little like Heaven. The light. The sky.”

“Oh.” Chloe’s thoughtful frown was back again, tugging at the corners of her mouth, making the very faintest hint of a crease appear between her eyebrows. He loved that deep look she got when she puzzled over a new problem.

“But you don’t care about that, and I wouldn’t want to overwhelm you with the burden of celestial angst,” Lucifer said.

 _Hurt_ -

Chloe laughed, quietly, not at him, rather at what he said. “Yeah, right, since when?”

“Since I thought you wanted me focusing on the case?” he said, trying to match her grin.

“It’s fine,” Chloe said. Her expression sobered again, and she reached out to touch his arm. She did not flinch. “Seriously, you really don’t seem okay.”

“I was thinking about Heaven, of course I’m not ‘okay.’”

Her thumb moved in absent little circles against his sleeve. “Are you...homesick?”

Lucifer scoffed and made a face.

“No, I’m serious,” Chloe said.

“I’m not _homesick_ ,” he said, forcefully. “I’m just thinking too much. It doesn’t matter.” He was being petulant, he knew, but there wasn’t much he could do at this point so he went and sat down heavily on the couch, putting his feet up on the coffee table. “You don’t have to do this, Detective. I have a therapist—you don’t have to pretend to be Linda to get back into my good books.”

Chloe sat next to him. “Good books? Do you actually have those?”

Lucifer snorted despite himself, grinning a little and elbowing her. “Did I ever tell you that the more you try not to be awkward, the more awkward you get?”

“Awkward?! I’m not awkward,” she exclaimed. “I think you just like making fun of me.”

“You make it so easy,” he said, grinning at her.

He waited a beat for the little voice to whisper again, but it was silent.

“I missed this,” Chloe said abruptly.

Lucifer let himself sink back into the couch cushions a little more, tipping his head back. “Oh, heavens, are we having _a moment_?”

“I’m trying to,” she said, nudging his leg with the toe of her shoe. “In all seriousness though things have been...crazy, lately, for all of us. And I know, I know even after everything it’s still going to take you a while to trust me like you did—”

( _hurt..._ )

“—but I care about you.” Chloe’s voice got suddenly very small. She nodded a little when he met her gaze. “I really do, and I want to help you. I know after...after everything with Eve, and Charlie and the other demons...and, well, _me_...” She seemed to give up then, making a helpless gesture with both her hands. “But you’re right. I’m not a therapist, and I don’t even know where to begin with...celestial angst. So.”

“So,” he repeated, watching her.

Chloe just shrugged, fidgeted, sitting up a little too straight and resting her hands on her knees. With her back to the windows, the setting sun behind her put her face in shadow which deepened when she looked down at her lap.

Lucifer shifted on the couch a little, and then he held his arm out. “Come here, detective,” he said softly.

For a moment Chloe looked at him in confusion, blinking slowly, then she moved closer, still a bit stiff and awkward but he forgave her that. She let herself slide down a little, leaning into his side, her head resting on his shoulder. She didn’t seem to know what to do with her hands so one arm remained awkwardly wedged between them.

After a second she let out a breath. “Um.”

“We’re having a moment,” Lucifer murmured. “Shush.”

“My arm’s falling asleep though.”

Sighing like she had put some great imposition on him, Lucifer shifted, expecting Chloe to sit up and pull away. Instead she moved with him, settled more comfortably against him, one hand on his chest, head settling so her forehead was against the side of his neck, and it felt very natural to curl his arm around her and rest his cheek against her hair.

Chloe didn’t say anything. Neither of them did. Lucifer was distracted for a moment watching the shadows lengthen, and by the time he drew his attention back to her, he realized she was asleep.

***

When Chloe awoke the room was dark. Lucifer must have dozed off as well, because she could feel the slow, even rise and fall of his chest under her hand. She felt warm, and drowsy, and like she wouldn’t want to move for all the world.

She shifted a little, and something tickled the back of her neck. Frowning, Chloe turned her head—and let out a soft gasp. Somehow, without waking her, Lucifer had manifested his wings. One was tucked against his side, but the other cradled her, curled around her in a similar way to his arm which was now around her waist. Carefully Chloe pushed herself up a little more.

Maybe it was the light, or maybe something really was wrong, but the feathers of Lucifer's wings appeared dull, disheveled, poking out at odd angles, clumping like hair that needed to be washed. A few had even come loose, and one was stuck to Chloe’s clothing when she sat up. She carefully removed it, holding it up in front of her face before letting it drift to the floor.

And this, she realized, just confirmed her suspicions. What a strange creature Lucifer was, cunning and capable of hiding so much and yet when everything was laid bare... Hesitantly, Chloe reached out and brushed her fingers along the top edge of his wing. Even as messy as they looked, his feathers were still softer than anything she had ever felt.

She gently, slowly began to smooth one downy feather back into place with her thumb, watching in fascination as the barbs caught on each other and the whole thing began to regain its normal shape. She ran the back of her fingers down the length of the wing, wondering at all the types of feathers she touched, at the sheer size of the primary flight feathers along the bottom.

“What’re you doing?” Lucifer murmured.

Chloe jerked her hand back, looking at him, wide-eyed. “Oh. Um. Sorry you just...your wing.”

“My...” He blinked, waking up further, then seemed to finally notice that his wings were, in fact, out. “Oh that would explain...sorry did I wake you?”

“No I just...” Chloe reached out and smoothed down another feather, a little closer to his shoulder this time.

Lucifer watched her, his eyes half closed, expression intense, bordering on ravenous. Chloe could feel her cheeks heating under that gaze.

“Is this…okay?” she asked after a beat.

“Mmm, it’s more than ok,” he said, the corner of his mouth quirking. “Though I wouldn’t advise touching anyone else’s wings without permission.”

Her cheeks got warmer and her eyes widened. “Oh. _Oh._ Um.”

“I didn’t say you had to stop,” he said.

Chloe’s hand had stopped moving, but she hadn’t pulled it away. Her fingers rested against the top edge of his wing and, hesitantly, almost shyly, she felt the bone there. It was so light, so fragile for its size, and she realized then _that_ was what really shook her about Lucifer’s wings; that juxtaposition of something so lovely and delicate and so essentially a part of him, this man (demon, fallen angel) who she would describe as many things but never ‘delicate.’

At least, she wouldn’t have used that word before.

Lucifer’s hand was on the side of her neck, as light a touch as hers on his wing. Then he was leaning closer, kissing her, and it was…

Soft. Sweet. And yes… _delicate._

Then he sat back.

Chloe missed the warmth of his lips like the world would miss the sun, but she looked at his wing again and wanted nothing more than to smooth the disheveled, mussed feathers. She reached out, stroking, caressing, working each individual one back to how it was supposed to be, burying her fingertips in that impossible softness.

She lost track of how long she sat there, but at some point she turned and looked at Lucifer. In the dim glow of the lights from the bar at the far end of the room his eyes shone wetly.

“Come here,” he said, for the second time, and this time Chloe moved into his lap, turning to face him, wrapping her arms around his body. They kissed again, deeper, but there was no hunger behind the way Lucifer pressed into her, just a heartbreaking desperation. So she clung to him, working her hands up under his jacket, up his back, finding where his wings joined his body (ignoring the strange way the fabric of shirt and jacket seemed to just part to let them through) feeling the strange shift of inhuman muscles beneath her hands as Lucifer pressed closer to her.

He turned, nudged her back, wings folded, fingers fumbling with buttons, jacket, shirt, discarded. Chloe slid her hands up the smooth (delicious, perfect) planes of his chest, over his shoulders, but she wanted to touch his wings again, fixated, maybe obsessed with those beautiful things.

Chloe let him remove her shirt, laughed at his admiring remark about the very un-Chloe-like lacy bra she had on (didn't point out this was the only lacy one she had), was laughing still as she kissed him, and that made the kiss something more—she felt warmth explode in her chest as he smiled against her lips, when she sat back and saw the smile linger.

Light-bringer. She understood that now.

Arms around her waist Lucifer lifted her with the effortless grace of a dancer, turning, laying her on her back on the couch, settled between her legs. She closed her eyes, let herself sink into the moment: his body, heavy against hers, her fingers tracing up his back to his wings again, finding a spot just beneath where feathers smoothed against skin that when she pushed her fingers into it Lucifer groaned, his hips giving a little push against her.

She wanted.

What?

All of this. She just _wanted_.

Lucifer sat back. He looked like art in that light, with that expression of unrestrained longing on his face, with his wings folded against his back but still visible. He ran his hands along her legs, then moved one hand between them, massaging her with his fingers through her jeans.

"Oh, _fuck,_ " Chloe groaned.

Breathless, he laughed, leaning in to kiss her, satisfied with that moment, unbuttoning her jeans, sitting back again, coaxing her to lift her hips, undressing her the rest of the way but unable to stop himself from kissing or stroking her skin in between.

She reached up, back behind her head to grasp the arm of the couch because when he pushed into her, her whole body moved, and she gasped so deeply it almost hurt, not painful hurt, just the same deep, satisfying ache of being so full, the same sharpness of his teeth catching her lower lip for just a second before he kissed her again, breathing into her as they moved together.

 _Oh_ , she thought. _Oh, oh._

But what she whispered was, "Please."

This felt as good as breathing. She arched up against him, one hand still clutching the arm of the couch behind her head, the other hand on his back, nails biting into the skin between his shoulder blades, between his wings. They moved against, together, around each other, a chaotic whirl of sensations that threatened to overwhelm her and made her squeeze her eyes shut, turning to press her face against his cheek, her hand moving to his hair, clinging, clutching.

Through all that she realized Lucifer was whispering something in her ear, such a strange, unearthly, lyrical sound that she could not even recognize words (though by then even if he had been speaking English she doubted she would have understood, she was drowning in the feeling of him within her, pushing her close, close, closer…)

Chloe didn't know if she sobbed or screamed or gasped out his name, just that she came harder than she had in as long as she could remember (ever?) nearly blacking out, and the feeling of him relaxing against her told her that he had as well.

And as she lay beneath him shuddering to catch her breath, she could make out words finally when he whispered – _"Geh'momaras ialpor basgim, a zir allar nonca, a zir boaluahe nonca, gi, zo nanta, zo gahalanan."_

Rather, she understood he _was_ speaking, somehow, but the sounds were not ones she thought she could replicate even if she had any voice left. She looked up at him, eyes half closed, shuddering and shivering when he moved to finally draw out of her.

"My mother tongue," Lucifer whispered in response to the curiously drowsy look she was giving him. "The language of Heaven."

Chloe twined her arms around his neck, toying with his hair. "What did you say?"

Lucifer touched a feather-light kiss to her cheek, to her jaw. "That I love you."

"Oh." Her heart sped so fast she found it hard to breathe for a second. Eyes closed she murmured, "Takes that long to say it?"

"Enochian does not have a word for the sort of love I feel for you," Lucifer said _._ "I said other things. That I beheld you crowned in daylight, would bind myself to you, my world, my whole existence."

She pressed her face to his shoulder for a moment, then let her head fall back so she could look at him, almost crying through the teasing smile she gave him. "Who knew you were such a sappy romantic," she said, but her voice sounded rough, and then she kissed him and said quietly, "I love you too. I'm glad we have a word for it…I'm too worn out to be poetic right now."

"I tend to do that to people," he said, a little of his usual self showing through in the grin he gave her.

And she loved that too. As crazy as it drove her sometimes, she loved the teasing side of him as much as the tender side. So she laughed, playfully shoving his face back from her, but unable to stop herself from yawning halfway through.

Lucifer moved off of her, scooping her effortlessly into his arms and turning towards the bedroom.

***

Chloe was still next to him when he woke. They had slept late, but after everything they probably deserved it. Rolling over onto his side Lucifer looked down at her. Naked and lying on her back with one arm over her head, the other resting on her stomach, she looked more relaxed than he had ever seen her, and somehow the fact that she was here, beside him, looking like that, was the best part about this moment.

Slowly she blinked her eyes open, yawned, stretched, then focused on him with a slow smile. "Hey."

"Hey yourself," Lucifer said. He reached over and tapped the tip of her nose with one finger, hoping it would make her laugh again.

It did. Chloe closed her eyes again for a second, then opened one and grinned at him. "What was that?"

"I don't know," he said, laughing too.

She stretched, curling a little closer to him so she could push the side of her head against his shoulder. "Well, now I know you _are_ in fact really good at sex."

"Oh, thank you, Detective, that's very high praise indeed," he said, chuckling and resting his head in his hand, elbow on his pillow.

Chloe gave him what, for her, was a surprisingly cheeky grin. She leaned up to kiss him, then settled down again. "Are you feeling better?"

"How could I not be?"

"I mean it, Lucifer. Are you?"

He wet his lips. "Yes," he said, seriously. "I don't think…I don't think you realize just how wonderful and remarkable it is, the way you humans love. And really, Chloe, what it comes down to is that you…care about me _because_ of who I am, not _despite_ it. You see me. You see me in that very honest, human way and I'm not sure I can express how much that means to me."

Chloe frowned a little. "You're…you've existed for longer than I can even begin to comprehend, I can't imagine that you…"

"I wasn't created to be loved like this," Lucifer said, and he hated how thick his voice felt.

"That's bullshit," Chloe said, sitting up. "I'm sorry. That's just…I don't care why you were created."

Lucifer smiled, reaching up to cup her cheek in his hand. "Exactly."

She tipped her head a little, leaning into his touch. The sunlight streaming in behind her wreathed and crowned her in a pale, delicate golden aura.

This light was anything but lonely.


End file.
